


Otherside

by Calici



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, because this season broke me, but not everyone lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calici/pseuds/Calici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While heading to the Twins the Hound and Arya come across a Lannister man who was to deliver a very important letter. The Hound calls it dumb luck; Arya, justice.<br/>Whatever it may be they decide to quicken their pace and reach the King in the North in time to save him from his consequences. Arya hopes to save her family; The Hound, well... he doesn't hope, but will try to fulfill his promise to a certain little bird and find out what lies on the other side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Otherside

“Then I’ll take as much gold as I can carry, laugh in his face and ride off. If he doesn’t kill me, but he won’t too much of his father’s son from what I hear. Fine with me, either way I-“He fell silent and stood up taking his sword swiftly in hand.

Arya, confused, focused her entire attention on the nightly sounds hoping to hear whatever the man had but only the continuing dripping from the trees was disrupting the atmosphere. Still, the Hound took a fighting stance and waited. Arya’s throat constricted as the image of an old tapestry back at Winterfell came to mind, a scene of a direwolf hunting his prey.

 _What is it?_ Arya wanted to asked but refrained and instead walked closer to Stranger, who had fallen equally silent proving his quality as a great war-stallion.

A sudden footstep snapped her head to the left; the spell was broken. The Hound instantly leaped over the wet wood and disappeared into the woods.

 _Run_ , the wild thought crossed her mind, even when she was frozen to the bone and the slightest movement of her numb limbs ached, but discarded the idea as quickly as it came. _There are worse monsters than me,_ the Hound had said. Reluctantly she agreed as The Mountain and his men’s laugh rang in her mind, so instead she hid herself in the shadows and tried to follow the goings on with her ears.

 She was able to discern the sound of men wrestling and hushed grunts that lasted few breaths before the unmistakable cling of swords finally made Stranger snort through his nostrils. Arya grabbed tightly a knife the Hound had left forgotten after his poor attempt of a fire and prepared herself.

 Just as sudden, everything fell quiet.

 Silenced reigned for a few torturous seconds before new footsteps approached. Stranger got even more agitated and Arya’s mouth became dry at the possibility of the Hound’s demise, he had drank quite a lot. Not because she held for him any sympathy, but because dealing with a strange man was not really what she wanted.

At last the moonlight that crept through the leaves bathed Clegane’s body making the blood on his clothes and face shine. He was dragging a corpse that honestly didn’t appeared as heavy as the Hound made him be. Tired, he let the corpse rot near the roots while he rested his back on the trunk of a large evergreen.

“Lannister” Arya remarked while approaching, the red lion was cleverly hidden under a large wool cloak.  “Aye, the bugger doesn’t appear to be a scout, he must be a messenger, a smart one. Probably thought that by traveling through the woods he wouldn’t be noticed. Ha! Well fuck him and his bad luck.” The Hound barked while making for his waterskin.

“Search him little she-wolf, what news on the war is he bearing?” A gulp of wine “Fuck that, he must have some food ” the Hound ditched his waterskin and searched him himself with Arya hovering over his shoulder.

The dead man carried with him plenty of coin _Lannister man; of course he would have money,_ fresh bread and cheese, and a bag full of correspondence. He stripped him the cloak off with ease. Thankfully it wasn’t blood soaked and didn’t stank much so when he spared her a brief glance and, noticing her shivering and teeth clinkering, Clegane, gave it to Arya. She made a face, hesitated but took it anyway for the lack of a better source of warmth.

Sandor’s attention returned to the dead man, he forgot the food for a moment and browsed through the notes and letters. All appeared inconsequential, but the Hound knew better; he turned the bag over, emptying it.

“Won’t you read them?” Arya asked under the large cloak.

“All rubbish, I know this type of a bag, a man in Lannisport designed it. It has… ah there it is” Sandor ripped the secret compartment and smiled in success. “Fools, shoulda known better.”

Inside the hidden lid was a leather envelope with a big red wax seal looking very expensive and of great quality. Arya stepped closer trying to catch a glimpse of the letter when the hound tore it open and read it.  She snarled displeased, however, when he stood straight and tall making impossible for her to even catch a single phrase.

“What does it say!” Arya demanded impatiently, but he continued reading, engrossed. After a few minutes torturing the poor girl Sandor burst out laughing and tortured her more. The burned side of his face pulled tight and his mouth stretched rather unpleasantly. “What are the odds she wolf?” He asked rhetorically.

Aya only gave him a hateful look. _If only I had needle,_  she wished.

“Your Brother is marching towards a massacre, this is Tywin’s final blessing.” He answered dryly once his laughing fit had subdued. Arya’s heart stopped its beating, her mind became blank. Her brother was in danger, her mother! Feeling her chest constrict,a sudden rush of urgency was shot through her veins.  She grabbed Sandor’s wet bloody chainmail and shook it desperately.

“We have to help him! Please we need to go! We need to go now!” She cried, for the first time revealing her feelings to a man who probably had none in her opinion. 

“Easy girl!” Sandor exclaimed taken aback. “ We will, can’t have those Frey’s messing with my ransom.” He paused and gathered his thoughts “They surely are a fortnight away from the crossings.” He concluded “A little more than half a day closer than us. If we were to ride on the Kingsroad“ Sandor explanation only fuelled Arya’s despair and the girl began shaking him again.

“Stop that racket or I’ll swear I’ll do it for you” Arya let go of Sandor’s garb and clutched firmly the cloak around her  “We have the upper hand now. If we follow closely the Green Fork, instead of going along the Kingsroad we might reach them in time. If not sooner.” The Hound explained, scratching his beard “Besides, the Bolton Lord is heading to the crossings on that very same road, it is clear he was the intended for this letter.”

“Lets move! Now!” She ordered, the Hound snorted at her and grinned.

“No girl, Stranger is tired, give him time to rest. We should rest as well.” Arya lowered her head and willed the tears away from her face. She would reach them in time. Or she would die trying.

“Stop your whimpering! Do exactly as I say and keep your mouth shut, rest.” He ordered angrily, tired of her bad manners. He tucked the letter away and headed towards the river. There were plans to be made. “I am going to wash the blood off, stay here, eat and try to lit a fire.” Sandor took a few steps but with an exasperated sigh looked over his shoulder and found Arya shaking with ire.

“She-wolf, learn to wait.”

Arya watched him disappear again into the night and finally let those hateful tears spill. Wiping them angrily, she gathered the forgotten papers and tried to do as ordered for once. A fortnight will come and go soon, she hated to admit the truth in the Hound’s words but she just had to wait and endure.

* * *

 

The fortnight did not come and go soon enough. 

The torturous river shore was muddy and if it were not for Stranger’s steady gallop and the Hound’s expert horse-riding the unevenness of the terrain would have killed them more than once. The constant beating of water drops on her head damped her spirits with each passing day

Every night Arya chanted the names adding the Frey’s and the Bolton’s, leaving the Hound’s last. Much the latter's amusement. Her enduring was only giving her more stress and constant headaches but she kept her complaining to herself not wanting to distract the Hound.

Nevertheless, for all her impatience and sensations of time going slower, the sun continued rising and setting as it ought to do in autumn. Finally they were there. 

The Twins came into view, two large towers, not as large as Winterfell, grey and distant. Arya smiled and for once in a very long time she found within herself hope, girlish hope. The kind of hope she hated. The kind of hope Sansa sported all the time. Her smile, however, was wiped off her face by the Hounds rash voice.

“Don’t look so happy yet she-wolf. Your brother is before the castle, I can see his host from here.” Arya squinted her eyes and true to the Hound’s words she was able to watch the silhouette of an army standing on the castle’s entrance like flowers on a field.

“They are on the other side of the bridge, what are we going to do?” Arya asked urgently, turning her head up. The Hound felt her heavy stare on his face and dismounted feeling uncomfortable. He walked closer to the shore and pondered on his options.

Meanwhile Arya grabbed Stranger’s reins and tried to take off but the horse didn’t budge one bit. Frustrated she dismounted as well, picked a rock up and threw it aiming for the twins. Of course it landed a few yards away but the intention was clear. Sandor rolled his eyes and approached her.

“We need to enter the Crossings, the bridge is open for passing travellers” The Hound decided while adjusting his cloak and the dead man’s scarf around his neck effectively covering his burned face. “We have money that is all that matters to the Freys. You act as my son; I act as a riverman. We pass. We meet your brother on the other side.”

“We’re late, by that time my brother would be already inside the castle!” Arya cried out.

“Aye, but they won’t attack ‘til they are all comfortable with food in their belly. We still have time, at least ‘til nightfall.” He assured her returning to Stranger with Arya in tow. They climbed on it’s back and adjusted themselves to incognito.

“Why are you doing this? It is too risky” Arya queried with suspicion after a second thought. It was not Hound-esque to risk himself so recklessly like that.

 _Because she’d cry_ , he thought. “True let’s leave their life in the god’s knowing hands.” He teased in wry voice.

“Noo! No! Hurry!” Arya shouted deciding to question him when his family was safe and sound. The Hound chuckled but nodded; Stranger raced. Arya clutched the saddle tightly, the Hound’s chainmail was digging painfully on her back; in all their time together the Hound had never ridden his horse as fast as he did in those moments. Arya was not scared by the speed, far from it, she felt she was a snowstorm.

“Are they entering yet?” Arya yelled through the wind, not able to focus her sight.

“No” The Hound shouted back, “They must be waiting for Walder Frey’s welcome. “ Arya assented. They had time. She promised to herself that when this nightmare ended it’d be her face Bolton would see last.

It hadn’t been long when the Hound stopped abruptly, Arya was taken by surprise and wasn't able to hold onto anything, only his firm grasp kept her from flying off the horse.

“Hey! What’s the matter with you?” But before Arya could voice her displeasure on a more colourful way she fell silent when she noticed two horsemen blocking their path. Frey’s men. They had reached the Crossroad on record time, Arya tried not to be impress.

Then a smack on her head.

She needn’t to try anymore.

“Hey!” “I am sick of you snapping at me boy ye’ll learn to be proper or else I’ll beat ye hard in the face.” Scolded the Hound with a peasant accent.  Arya swallowed the bile that crept up her throat but continued the charade. “Aye da’”

The Guards released a little laugh before asking, “What business have ye here?”

“The same as every other traveller.” Answered nonchalantly the Hound to a boy of perhaps five and ten and a man twice that age “I need to cross with me boy and me horse, all the other bridges collapsed ‘cause of the rains.”

“The bridge isn’t open for travellers till the morrow. There is an army crossing on the other side.” The older man answered, Sandor grunted.

“What cares do smallfolk have with them. We need to cross we carry medicine for our flock, the bad weather is toiling all over us.” The guards shared a look, Arya had practice with lying, having lived under Tywin’s Lannister roof for several moon turns, so she decided to help a little.

“Please, the sky’ll be storming tonight and there is nowhere else to go. We'll pay.” She cried desperately, The Hound growled and whispered to her ear. “Be quite.” The guards talked it over for about an hour and luckily other travellers arrived and demanded safe pass as well. Arya began to despair, sensing his brother was already in danger.

“Very well you shall pass, it’ll cost you five stars each and a stag for every horse.” The mob protested but those who had coin on them started counting. Arya grabbed the moneybag and began retrieving the stars. “No, use as many pennies as you can, common folk don’t carry many stars with them.”

With a mixture of groats, pennies and a few stars they delivered the demanded sum and were led to the gateway. “Oi what a fine horse you have there, you stole it?” The Hound was asked once inside the tower. “No.” He answered sharply. “You bought it?” He was asked again.

The hound rolled his eyes but answered. “I found him as a foal starving near Oldstones. He’s mine, won’t answer to any other.”  As in serving to corroborate this Stranger released a bite when said man tried to approach him.

“Easy boy!” The man cried “What a shame, it is such a nice stallion. Nice luck you have” The Hound shrugged but Arya knew he was enormously pleased with his horse.

“Listen all” a guard called as the gates to the bridge began to open. “You pass but you do it quickly if you value your lives, at the first sign of trouble, well, lets say our archers are eager for some practice.” The men laugh while the travellers broke in fearful murmurs. Arya was disgusted by the blatant display of stupidity, those were not real soldiers they were a joke. The Hound patted Stranger and began moving forward.

“When we reach the other side, what then?” Arya inquired when a safe distance was settled between them and the rest. “We search for a bannerman truly loyal to your brother a member of his personal guard. And you will explain everything. That the Bolton’s have been planning these for several moon turns, that the Freys will violate the rules of courtesy..” A pause.

“You’ll beg the letter to be taken to your brother... I’ll be taken prisoner I suppose.” The hound grunted again at this. “And foremost you need to insist that our presence needs to be kept secret or else Bolton’ll snatch you” Sandor brought to an end his brief explanation when they stood before the main tower’s gates.

The entrance opened. Soldiers overwhelmed Arya’s gaze, few compared to the host of perhaps five hundred that she saw from afar, but so many that the entire courtyard was occupied. However, she knew that it was likely most were Bolton’s or Frey’s

Arya’s eyes began to frantically search for a familiar face or sigil. In no time she saw the roaring giant of a northerner house far near the entrance of the castle/tower. Not caring for anything else, she sprinted towards them, leaving some Frey guards and the Hound screaming after her.

In that very short race she tried to remember all her lesson’s her septa taught her, or attempted to at least.

She crashed, and landed right on her butt.

It hurt and while cursing her lack of attention she turned her head up only to find a man perhaps as equally big as the Hound.  Arya’s breath hitched while her mind worked hard trying to find the correct name. Karstark? No. Mormont? No. Who? Then after a few seconds it clicked.

“SmallJon Umber?” She asked, praying to the old gods. The man rose a big furry eyebrow and answered “Small?! Has my nickname travelled so far south?” The redhead laughed a big clean laugh, his men joined him.

“Winter is coming” Said Arya, the man quieted and kneeled while his men continued doing whatever they were doing before the interruption “The Stark words boy, are you cheering for our King?” Arya was thankful for this, now she could whisper her next words. “My name is Arya of House Stark. I escaped King’s Landing.” Umber’s eyes widened at this.

The Hound and the Frey soldiers arrived but before SmallJon asked anything else she stood and added. “Don’t act strange, we are in grave danger.”

“My lord, pardon our mistake, the boy’ll be punished for this!” The guard said while grabbing Arya’s arm. Clegane grabbed the man’s shoulder in turn effectively stopping him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Arya’s gaze never left Umber’s eyes. The man examined her thoroughly for a few moments. Then he announced,

“It is no trouble, I know this boy and his father. Leave.” The Frey’s questioning face turned to Arya and then to the Hound, but he released her resigned and went back to the gate.

“Follow me.” SmallJon lead them to the stables and after barking his orders they were left alone, neither Umber nor Arya saw a pair of Bolton eyes that found occurrence very strange, but the Hound skilled eyes noticed them being watched.

 

* * *

 

Umber had arranged five men to follow him while marching towards the stables. Two he ordered to stay at the door and three to seize the Hound after the latter had tied Stranger to a water barrel. He opposed no resistance as this was no surprise to him and let the men uncover his face and tie him next to his horse.

“The Hound!” SmallJon exclaimed surprised “What is the meaning of this!”

“Lord Jon Umber” Arya said interrupting him and trying her best to imitate Sansa “There is something of utmost importance you need to know and tell my brother about.” SmallJon, taken aback by the change of demeanour stood quiet and nodded, “The Hound and I intercepted a Lannister messenger on our way here”

“The Hound and I” Clegane grumbled to himself.

“The letter” She said while pointing to the Hound’s breast pocket, SmallJon taking the hint retrieved it, giving the Hound a loathing look while he was at it. The Hound smirked teasingly.

“It contains the final arrangements of a plan to kill my brother with the help of Lord Walder Frey and Roose Bolton.” Umber was speechless as his eyes scanned the contents.

“I can’t believe this.” His grave voice expressed. “You should, and if you don’t act soon then you’ll all be dead” The Hound equally grave voice spat.

“You are a Lannister man, for all I know this could be false.” “It isn’t” Arya intercepted “I was there when he brought the messenger down, call my mother! She’ll recognized me and believe what I say!” Arya demanded.

Lord Umber felt conflicted; the fate of their cause lay in his hands. The fate of the North. And if this was true then they all had walked right into a trap and perhaps it was already too late. But, if it was all folly they could always capture them and continue with their plans.

His mind was set.

“Byran, you heard this. Search for the King and his Lady mother. Tell them something is amiss with GreyWind and meet us at the barn where he is chained.” Byran nodded feeling overwhelmed by the task. “But secretly pass this letter to either of them when no one’s watching.” The man grabbed it with shaking hands and headed towards the exit but the Hound’s next words stopped him and chilled poor Byran’s blood.

“Wait! They saw us! They’ll try to kill him.” He noted smartly, SmallJon unenthusiastically agreed and Byran began sweating. “Aidin, Brod. Go with him.” The two other men readied themselves and left with Byran.

When they were alone, SmallJon questioned Arya with a very stern voice “How did you escaped King’s Landing” Not truly believing she was Arya yet. “A man of the night’s watch, my father’s friend, smuggled me out of the city posing a boy.” Arya said feeling a tremor crawling on her back, she always tried very hard not to think about that day as it was the worst day of her short life.

SmallJon pondered this over. If their words were true what could they do against so many? He hoped Byran and the boys arrive safely. He knew Bolton was a despicable man, but to betray his King like that. He would kill him himself.

“Hound, what do you expect to gain from this? You are Tywin’s man.” The Hound laughed bitterly. “I expect you to be grateful, you might still draw breath tomorrow because of me.” Smalljon made a sour face, angered by his lack of respect.

“Let’s go to the barn, I warn you it’s full with Frey men” He walked to the Hound, drew his sword and slashed the rope that hold him to the barrel. “Don’t try anything funny _Hound_.” He admonished. The Hound snorted not feeling intimidated in the least, untied Stranger refusing to leave him alone there and covered his face again.

“Jaron, Fernar. Lets go.” The soldiers guarding the door nodded and exited the stable first. Smalljon kept his hand on Arya’s shoulder the entire way to the barn. All tried to appear calmed and relaxed but even the Hound felt the tension grip his heart. Every pair of eyes turned to them, some with curiosity but most with distrust. The Hound looked at them coldly. Arya did too. Stranger blew hot air through his nostrils not liking the sight of other horses.

“Is it far?” Arya broke the silence “No. The castle is not that large, just around that corner.” Her lips thinned, her mouth dry. But the one who truly relieved the tension was her stomach when it growled ferociously for food after the pregnant pause. SmallJon turned and gave her a funny look; all Arya could do was smile despite the danger. “I think that maybe, just maybe, I’m hungry.” She uttered very softly.

“You don't say.” They arrived shortly after that. The barn wasn't big but it was fully under surveillance. The entrance was heavily guarded by ten men, armed and in all honestly scared. Furious growls and howls came from inside accompanied by the cling of heavy chains that kept GreyWind restrained. Arya was startled by the commotion but knew she was in no danger; it was her kin.

“What do you want? None can't enter but the King.” A skinny man with a whiny voice said.

“He’ll arrive shortly, this man,” he explained pointing at the Hound “will give Greywind a full checkup, we believe it is ill” but the man didn't buy it

“Orders are orders only the King himself is to pass through us” SmallJon began to grew irritated. Taking a deep breath he said in a low tone “Move bag of bones or I’ll move you myself.”

“You can try” the Hound suppressed a laugh with a risen eyebrow and a cough, the man had balls he could give him that. This Umber was twice his size and thrice his build.

“You little sh-“

“That is enough!” A loud voice interrupted, Arya’s heart took a leap at the sound, she knew that voice in an instant and she longed to turn around but refrained. Once inside she would give her brother a big hug and then a hard kick for being so foolish. 

“Jon how is Greywind?! Open the door!” The Frey men could do nothing but to comply. Umber gave the skinny man a hateful look before addressing his King. “My King lets talk inside, we- My King! You are injured?” Asked Umber alarmed when he saw the blood covering his clothes.

“This is not mine. One of your men told me to come quickly, he was gravely injured and told me Greywind had attacked him that he was on rampage.” Robb hadn't noticed Arya nor the Hound as he was worried sick by his direwolf and when the doors opened he stepped inside immediately. The Hound and Umber shared a look, both knowing who had attacked the latter’s men. And worse, they guards had listened too.

“Watch over the doors” Umber told his men “Only let the King’s family in” hoping the two of them would hold the entrance long enough he followed Robb inside with Arya, the Hound and Stranger.

Once inside Greywinds’s growls turned into whimpers when Robb’s scent was caught by his nose. Arya noted that the only source of light came from high windows near the roof, since it was a very cloudy day the barn was dark and Umber had to light the lanterns. 

Meanwhile, Robb killed the distance with a couple of long strides and kneeled before the desperate beast. Passing his hand through Greywind’s thick fur he asked with a broken voice, “What is it boy?” The wolf continued sobbing and buried his muzzle on Robb’s neck “what is wrong?!”

“My king, did Byron gave you the letter?” Umber asked after he had made they were alone inside. Arya was shocked speechless by Greywind's size, he was enormous, almost the size a horse. No wonder the soldiers outside were trembling with fear.

“Letter?” He repeated while trying to calm his direwolf “No. What letter?” Arya's eyes widened and fear gripped her heart “No! The Boltons have it! All is lost!” She exclaimed with teary eyes. Robb’s mouth hanged open as he finally set his eyes on Arya. Preoccupied on the exchange none heard the door being opened but the Hound.

Before anyone could speak a desperate cry broke the silence.

“Arya!” Her mother exclaimed with palpable relief while closing the door behind her. She grabbed her dress and ran full speed to her daughter. 

“Mother!” Arya’s resolve finally broke and new tears were spilled. Arya was engulfed in her mother embrace. Robb approached the pair, stunned but smiling happily at the sight of his mother wiping the dirt and tears from her girl’s face. He turned to Sandor who had uncovered his face and was attempting to calm Stranger since Greywind was giving him the fright of his life. 

“Sandor the Hound Clegane. You bring my sister to us? Was is this Jon? Why weren't they brought to me straight away!” Robb demanded, but the Hound asked back.

“The letter!? What happened to it?” The Hound began formulating a plan while tying Stranger as far as possible from Greywind, they had wasted too much time with all this summoning. 

“What thrice-dammed letter?” Robb exasperated asked. The Hound cursed his luck, he only hoped that the boy trusted his men and his own sister words.

“I have the letter” Catelyn declared turning her gaze, firm and cold so unlike the little bird’s blue sky eyes, to Sandor. Hers were stormy and full of anger. He calmed down despite being subjected to that hateful gaze, nodded and rested his back on the door, not wanting anyone else inside.

Catelyn stood, never releasing Arya from her protective grip, and gave Robb the letter with an accusatory glare. The leather envelope was wet with blood but the vellum inside was intact.

“I knew it! I told you yet you refused to listen to your mother’s words!” She accused spitting each word with hurt as she hold the letter out to Robb, her hand shaking but not with ire, with fear.

Robb took the letter and examined the vellum and the envelope before unfolding it; Sandor meanwhile glanced at Arya who was being cleaned with her mother’s sleeve as the girl hold her for dear life. He wondered if the boy would take him into his service. It would be wise to do so. Sandor knew close to perfection the way Tywin did war, plus he would face his own brother and kill him in battle.

And maybe he could be the one that brought the little bird back to her frozen nest.

Umber approached Lady Catelyn and inquired about his men. “There was only one. He collapse after passing your message to Robb, before dying he managed to give me the letter as Robb had sprinted away.” Umber nodded.

“Now you, my lady, realise it was not Greywind who attacked him, he was accompanied by two other men, they were ambushed.” Umber concluded with a sad voice, somber at the loss of his men “Just as the Hound knew they would be” the Hound licked his lips and refused to meet the woman's face.

So like _hers_ but entirely different.

“My father always said Walder Frey was not a trustworthy man. He had good reasons to believe so.” Catelyn reminded Robb. “And to think Bolton is with him! It's horrifying! Barbaric as everything they are capable of.”

“Aye, Bolton has been loosing many battles as of late, this treachery, it was to be expected” Umber agreed.

“Where did you get this?” Robb asked with a growl shacking with anger when he finished reading “If this is a trick...” He warned. Greywind, sensing his master’s anger growled along.

“It is no trick, we encountered the Lannister messenger on our way here, pure dumb luck.” He commented emphasising the last three words with a pause between them while the boy reread the letter with crazy eyes.

 

“Robb it’s true! I was there when he killed him and searched him” Arya asserted with resolute as Robb's eyes met hers. The Hound knew the boy king had to believe know, the letter, his sister, his own dead men spoke louder than anything else he could say. 

“Why Hound?” He inquired “ What do you want? You bring my sister with you, you bring this plot against us to our attention, why?” Every eye turned to him, awaiting an answer.

“Even a dog gets tired of being kicked” Sandor answered simply after a moment.

Robb knew not what to make of that, he turned to Greywind who would have growled at him if the man were not telling the truth. But Greywind was paying him no attention whatsoever, his senses fixed upon the men gathering outside instead.

“Robb we must leave! Immediately! give the order!” Catelyn begged clutching Arya for dear life. “I can’t” Robb answered “Half of my bannerman and my uncle are already in their rooms, the attack could begin the moment I give any indication of discomfort”

“Let them attack my King, my men can hold them” declared Umber with courage but Robb shook his head again. “No, half of our army is camping on the field. We’d be butchered”

“Attack.” The Hound counselled squaring his shoulders and advancing on the boy. “Attack them first. That is the only way, there is no honour on that but its what the Lannister’s would do. What they will do using Bolton and Frey as puppets” Sandor counselled. “And Tywin always wins in a war.”

“Half of my men are his men” Robb knew that without the Karstarks his host was weaker than ever. “Matters not, attack. Or you are dead anyway” Robb shook his head and began pacing, not liking the suggestion in the least.

“You are an honourable man, Robb Stark, your father was too and that was what got him killed! I was there.” Robb turned to the Hound eyes widened. Catelyn gasped with horror while Umber drew his sword“Watch your words dog” but Sandor continued anyway “He doomed his eldest daughter to a life of misery under a cruel bastard, his youngest to a life of a fugitive, his oldest son to a foolish war, his younger sons and his men to death.” Robb flinched at every word. 

“Don’t make the same mistake” Sandor stepped closer to him, the sound of men calling from outside put Robb under even more pressure. “Be smart for once, there will be a time for honourable doings but it is not this time, boy, mark my words if you don’t do it you might as well kill your mother and sister with that sword.”

“My King they are forcing the door.” Said Umber with a panicked voice as Greywind's growls rumbled inside everyone's chest and Stranger’s whines hurt their ears. “Robb!” His mother exclaimed engulfing Arya in her arms while the last looked at her brother with an unwavering expression knowing every word uttered by the Hound was true and sound, but hating him for it. If only there was other way.

“King,” the Hound’s voice pulled Robb out of a shock he hadn't noticed he was in. “Heed the call of self-preservation” Robb twisted his mouth with frustration digging his nails on his palm to the point of blood. What could he do against so much hate? Against their terrible odds? Against death?.

Arya saw the conflict in his eyes and suddenly it was not her King Brother who was being forced to do something he found despicable, no, it was her father, their father, kneeling and humiliated; their father trying to fix what he had brought upon himself with lies, but it was too late.

Was it too late for them? “Robb!" No, it couldn't be "What do we say to the God of death?” Arya asked him in a tone that wasn't her own. 

It was his sister’s words that finally made him reach a decision. He gulped down some courage, drew his sword full of determination; with his father’s, his brothers’, his wife’s, his sisters’, his mother’s and men’s screams tormenting his mind he slashed Greywind's chains with a powerful blow and grabbed the closest lantern.

 

“We fight.”

 

* * *

“My Lady Sansa” Tyrion called out in an empty room “Over here.” Answered her sweet voice from outside her parlour. He crossed the doorframe and walked to the balcony. He hated himself for being the one to deliver the news. She would hate him even more but there was no other way around it. 

“My lady, are you well this afternoon?” He inquired politely.

“Yes, my Lord thank you, please do be seated” She requested, her face blank, her voice dead.

“Thank you My Lady but I must return to my duties I only came to inform you that” Tyron hesitated, but forced himself to continue “There was a battle inside the Crossings, where your uncle, Edmure Tully, was to be wed.” Sansa’s face didn't change.

“The towers were set afire. We know not the outcome, we suspect Lord Frey attacked your brother but he managed to fight back” Sansa’s eyes didn't even blink but after a moment she asked, “You are not certain he is dead?”

“No, My Lady” Tyron replied. Sansa gave him a polite nod and continued gazing towards the horizon. Tyron took the hint and with a brief farewell he left.

 

 

“He isn't. He can't be” She said to the wind.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
